Chasing the High
by nakedpie
Summary: He wanted to try something new. He went down the wrong path too quickly.


**Another old fic based on a prompt that never made it here.**

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MacCoy's stomach twitched in shallow anticipation at the prospect of sharing another mind blowing activity with the person he felt most comfortable with. Mo sat next to him patiently, admiring the boy shuffling though his duffel bag until he pulled out a plastic baggy filled with fine white powder. His smile vanished and was replaced with disdain—mouth curled into a heavy frown and eyebrows deeply furrowed.

The blond's eyes were still trained on the thick package but he casts a sidelong glance at his friend, a quick peek that Mo almost missed, and shyly muttered something Mo asked him to repeat.

"I wanna try somethin' new wit' ya."

Mo shook his head in disapproval but MacCoy had a way of making him change his mind instantly. He bit his lip, peering at him under long lashes that were distinctively visible even under the thin orange lenses of his goggles, and softened his tone. "C'mon, Mo. Please?"

With his head in his hands, the darker B-boy agreed but only on the condition that this would be a one time thing for them no matter what. Their weed rituals could continue on as they please, which honestly Mo wasn't too fond of but they made 'Coy happy. He enjoyed them as well but he didn't feel he needed the drugs like he knew MacCoy did. The guy had problems he tried and failed to repair but time spent with him wasn't wasted.

Their knees touched because of their crowded position on the small loveseat and the heat comforted the gurgling feeling in Mo's belly. MacCoy moved, slipping down to his knees to unwrap the package on the glass table, and the tagger felt a deeper connection between the two slip away. Blue eyes turned to look at him for approval and Mo felt disgusted but he wasn't sure with whom.

A tinkling sound broke him from his train wrecked mind and he noticed two clear glass tubes that the Russian was busy trying to keep from rolling off the table. The sight made an uneasy laugh slip past his lips and he moved down behind MacCoy, his knees on either side of him with his hands drawing comforting circles into his sides. Mo knew he didn't need them though, he was always a little more reckless than the rest of the DC crews.

"Yer always gonna be wit' me fer my first times, righ'?" MacCoy leaned back into Mo as the taller dancer wrapped his arms around his toned middle. There was a tone in his voice that was unfamiliar to Mo but he agreed with a hum regardless.

A freckled hand squeezed his thigh, "Watch how I do it, babe."

Mo reluctantly released the other, slowly moving to watch the DJ easily slice through the bag with a razor and set up two thick lines the length of pen caps.

MacCoy wet his lips and rolled the glass tube between his pale fingers, smiling when Mo guided him into a slow kiss before he proceeded.

After he plugged his nose the first line vanished quickly and the second one followed in hot pursuit. The remnants were scraped together and he alternated which nostril to snort it up with one last time. As he sat back relaxing he gestured towards the unused tube. "Shows all yers, Mo."

Mo fidgeted around with the glass cylinder, mulling the idea around, and staring at the still full bag on the table. Why did he buy so much though?

A groan erupted from his friend and he turned to watch the Russian slowly unwind, clearly pleased with his current state. A shaky hand ran through blond hair as the other wiped at his sniffling nose, letting out another satisfied moan.

Mo leaned over the table, his insides quaking and mind oblivious to 'Coy sidling up next to him.

"I can't handle it all by myself. Feels real good, Mo. Everythin's numbed."

He said no again, despite his curiosity, but MacCoy's smooth hand in his wasn't something he wanted to never experience again. A thumb repeatedly brushed over the side of his and the feeling of dry lips on his knuckles shoved his fear away.

The white disappeared quicker than he set it out and as he sat back against the loveseat, legs folded under him oddly, he realized how right 'Coy was.


End file.
